To My Dear Friend Emmy
by TheQueenofHopeandDespair
Summary: For Emmy Altava, a curious letter like this one is very much an odd occurrence. (post Azran Legacy)


**I wrote my first fic! This came from me naming myself Emmy (as that is my nickname) on Curious Village, and idk the letter part gave me ideas. I'd appreciate feedback of any sort, and do let me know if you enjoyed it!**

"..." Emmy Altava's ink black eyes slowly open, and she lets out a small drowsy yawn. It's been months. Months since Targent was brought down, Uncle Leon was arrested, since she left the professor and his amusing apprentice for... this. She wasn't worthy of such people, she thinks bitterly as she throws the thick blankets off her body, sluggishly pushing herself out of the warm haven that is her bed. How could she be worthy of such wonderful people? In their eyes, she was probably just a dirty traitor. They were probably just being polite, waiting for her to leave herself.

"Well... I'm out of their hair now..." She mutters quietly into the empty room. Everything's so isolated for her these days, no one to talk to in this tiny apartment she now calls home. She sighs, trudging through the room, her feet dragging heavily across the thin wool carpet. Luke. She spent a lot of time making fun of Luke...

She looks back on those memories with a faint smile as she produces a teacup from the cupboard above her head. She really was too fond of that boy. Far too fond. "I suppose that's why I didn't succeed as a Targent mole," she comments with a little chuckle. "I fell far too fast."

She drops a teabag into the steaming water, watching the rich brown slowly diffuse into the clear, spreading across the entire cup. Tea reminded her of them too. It seemed like today would just be one of those days. Some days she moved along nicely, without a single thought towards the pair whom she loved so dearly. Why, some days it would be like they hadn't even existed at all. They were the peaceful days, she found, not necessarily happy, but most definitely peaceful. She didn't mind being alone on those days. But it was on days like this, days where they couldn't get out of her mind, where every single little thing would trigger memories, when she'd stare wistfully out of the window for what seemed like centuries, that it felt the most barren. And as she slowly poured in a dash of creamy white milk, watching it swirl into the brown solution with a glazed look, she decided that this was the loneliest she had been for some time.

She shakes her head rapidly, as if the sharp movement were to throw the thoughts out of her head, and uses one hand to push the thick raven mop of hair from her still sleepy eyes. "Come on now Emmy, there's no use looking into the past, is there?" She puts on a small, forced smile, for herself, on as she heads to her door, opening it and bending down the scoop up the small stack of mail lying on the doorstep. Granted, today it's a larger stack than what she'd usually get. _More bills and odd charity ploys,_ she thinks as she dumps the pile on her counter, taking her tea in one hand and using the other to quickly flick through the various bills and whatnot. Her eyes scan each one monotonously as she takes small sips of her tea, but her fingers stop on the penultimate envelope in the pile. It wasn't like the other, she was sure of that, more... fancy.

She carefully sets down her mug, lifting the curious letter with two hands up to her face. How odd. She rarely received letters from anyone these days. But sure enough, it's for her, as it's written in slightly scruffy writing on the front. Almost looks like a child's work... She flips it over, and her eyes widen a little at the presence of a seal, made out of blue wax. Her curiosity is very much piqued now as she inspects the seal. An L. _L for Layton,_ she thinks with slight amusement before frowning and muttering to herself to stop that.

Layton had been one for fancy things, she knew that. For someone living in the modern age, he was awfully classy, but then she supposed that was exactly what gave him his charm. It was never supposed to happen; she was never supposed to care so much for him. At first, she'd just thought he were a mere fool in a tophat. But the Professor... he had taught her so many things while she was with him, so much more than she had ever learned from Bronev. With such wit and charm to him, she supposed it was hard not to end up having feelings of some sort. _Pesky feelings, getting in the way of my mission..._ she thinks with a small frown. It was then she realised she was getting swept off in her own thoughts, staring vacantly at the letter still in her hands.

She blinks abruptly at the realisation and shakes her head a little. She uses her thumb to pick at the blue wax sealing the letter shut, aiming to peel it off rather than break it. She found it was much too... perfect for her to just break it. Sure enough, the seal peels off relatively easily, and she sets it aside, pulling out the letter.

She flips it open, and the page is filled with the same slightly scruffy handwriting shown on the envelope, with the odd blot of ebony ink here and there, a stark contrast to the crisp white page. She cocks her head a little. She couldn't think of anyone who might have sent her such a thing... Her eyes slowly start to scan the first line. _To my dear friend Emmy... _

She realises with a start. A small gasp escapes her lips as she reads the rest. It's all normal, nothing about her involvement with Targent, as if... _as if it had never happened_. It's all about an adventure the child had been on with the Professor, about a curious village. And she finds that the story of said village is most interesting, although she is more concerned about the sudden sting in her eyes as she reads over it with a small smile.

It's almost complete silence as she is completely engaged in the story, occasionally letting out small giggles at the people they met, and gasps at the extraordinary. "A ferriswheel?! Wow..." She supposes wherever those two go, adventure is sure to follow.

She sets the letter down on the counter, eyes still glued to it. She has a wide grin plastered on her face, a familiar warm feeling settling in her heart. He still cared. They both still cared.

She's filled with a sudden excitement, hurrying over to her desk and sitting down, grabbing a pen and fiddling with it as she stares at a blank piece of paper in front of her. She fervently chews on the lid of the pen as she starts writing, trying to be careful, graceful in her handwriting. There's a lot she wants to say, a lot that she wants them to know, but it's best to start out simple and sweet. Isn't it?

_To the Professor's most dutiful apprentice, Luke..._


End file.
